


we knew we'd get there someday

by Anonymous



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: A little bit of angst, Blow Jobs, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, mention of Sonia, only at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23205988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "The nightmare from before completely erases from his mind, the snaking vines of his mother’s words releasing their grip from around his throat, falling away from him completely. This time, he dreams about the good kind of love. The kind of love that is so warm it would make the sun jealous, that lights you up inside and makes you shine with it. The kind of love he’s deserved this whole time and finally, finally, gets to embrace with open arms."
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 130
Collections: Anonymous





	we knew we'd get there someday

**Author's Note:**

> Are there already a million Townhouse fix-its? Yes. But here's another one!  
> Title taken from "You're Still the One" by Shania Twain

_“Eddie-bear, it’s not safe out there. You’re going to get hurt and it’s going to make mommy very upset. You don’t want to make mommy sad, do you Eddie? Please, Eddie-bear, you’re too fragile. You’re too_ delicate _. You don’t know what’s good for you, Eddie, but I do. Listen to me, Eddie-bear, Mommy_ needs _you, Mommy_ loves _you.”_

_But,_ Eddie thinks _, love isn’t supposed to hurt you like this. Knows it isn’t supposed to leave you feeling so goddamn suffocated you feel like your chest is going to crack right open and leave you split clean down the middle, just like a tree after it's been struck by lightning, your ribs looking like the splayed out branches. Love is not supposed to make you feel like you can hardly move sometimes, like your veins have been pumped full of a poison so strong it leaves you paralyzed. He_ knows _this, so why does he feel so_ guilty _? Why does he let her words wrap around his throat like unrelenting vines and pull him back to her each and every goddamn time?_

_Eddie glances back at the house once more, at her. He watches where his mother is holding onto the porch railing as thick, fat tears roll down her cheeks the way a bowling ball rolls down a lane, speedy and ready to knock the innocent little pins down. That’s what those tears do to him, knock him down when he stands up again each time because she knows they leave him powerless, leave him feeling helpless. It’s what's kept him here so long already, isn’t it? Not anymore._

_Taking a deep breath and pivoting back around, Eddie closes his eyes and attempts to drown out her pleas once more. He steps forward. He heads towards the car._

_“I always knew you would leave me like this, Eddie-bear. Why don’t you love me? After everything I’ve done for you! Oh, Eddie-bear, how could you do this to your poor, sick mother? You don’t know what you’re doing Eddie. You’re making a mistake.”_

_The words cut deep into his skin like sharp little knives. Eddie keeps walking._

_**_

Eddie jolts awake. He’s drenched in sweat from the nightmare he just had. No, it wasn’t a nightmare. It was a memory. His breath is coming in shallow and short, and he can feel the straining in his chest and hears the whistle in his throat. He looks at the time and sees it’s only five in the morning. Sighing, he climbs off the covers of the Townhouse bed. They defeated Pennywise yesterday and are all still at the Townhouse, but Eddie doesn’t feel relieved like he should. He feels weighed down. _Tired_. He supposes coming back home to your child-murder infested town to finish off a clown you thought you killed three decades ago with the friends you forgot you even had will do that to a person, though. 

The harsh reminder makes him shudder. 

In the bathroom attached to the room, Eddie washes his face with cold water and brushes his teeth. Brushing his teeth always makes him feel somewhat better, gives him something to focus on. He’s staying in Ben’s room right now, since Ben is staying with Beverly anway and Bowers destroyed his own room.

Pocketing the roomkey, he heads down the stairs and towards the lounge. 

The sight of another person sitting there almost makes him jump out of his skin until he realizes it’s just Richie.

“Jesus dude, you almost just gave me a heart attack. What are you doing awake?” Eddie questions, taking the seat next to Richie. He tucks his feet up under himself and crosses his arms over his chest like it’ll protect him. From what, he doesn’t know.

Richie glances up at him with a quirked brow. “Couldn’t I ask you the same thing, shortstack? Nah, I just couldn’t sleep. Lots going on in this big head.” His tone is teasing but Eddie can see the exhaustion on his face. 

Ever since Eddie first laid eyes on him again in the Jade of the Orient he knew he was screwed. The feelings that once existed in his tiny teenage body for the boy with wild hair, glasses too big and too thick for his own good came rushing back so suddenly he almost fell on his ass from the force of it. 

“Me neither. A nightmare woke me up. Except it wasn’t a fucking nightmare, it was a memory.” Their memories were all coming back to them in random bursts, and Richie nods in understanding. 

“About the clown?” Richie’s voice is quiet and reserved, soothing to the ears, which tells Eddie just how tired Richie actually is. His usual loud and boisterous personality seemed to have disappeared completely, leaving the version of Richie only Eddie ever really got to see. 

“No, about my mother and the day when I finally left home for good. You know, it took me three tries to leave that fucking house. Three times, Richie.” Eddie feels himself getting worked up again. An anger starts grinding deep into his bones and he clenches his jaw, looking away from Richie.

But Richie keeps his eyes on Eddie, a thoughtful shine to them. He hums once while he takes in what Eddie just told him. “But you left eventually, didn’t you? Maybe it took you three tries, but you got there in the end.” His head is tilted to the side and his eyebrows are furrowed. Eddie thinks he’s beautiful. 

“Yeah, to fall right into the arms of Myra. Who, and keep your mouth shut dipshit, is exactly like her. I walked right out of my mother’s control and directly into Myra’s. I hate that we fucking forget everything. I hate that I forgot yo—that I forgot about you guys.” Eddie whispers the last part, unable to hold back the tears that well in his eyes. The unsaid _you_ still translates into his words and he knows Richie can hear it. He wipes furiously at his face, because he’s fucking _crying_ in front of Richie right now, and he did not sign up for that when he decided to come sit down here.

Thinking about the similarities between his mother and Myra is enough to make him physically sick. As soon as he arrived at the Townhouse after the, quite honestly, most horrifying meal experience of his life, he called Myra. Asking for a divorce over the phone after fleeing to go back to your hometown with no explanation probably is an asshole move, but, well. Eddie is an asshole and he wanted out of their marriage quicker than when he fell into it. When he first met her, Myra hooked onto his ankles and dragged him down like quicksand. He was finally finding the strength to pull himself out. After their call, he took his wedding band off and threw it out the window. He hopes Richie noticed he hasn’t been wearing it. 

“I know, man. It’s fucked up and makes me angry too, but… I don’t know. I guess we can take back control of our lives now. You know, for like, good. Unless we leave here and our memory is wiped again,” he huffs a humorless laugh. Richie has fully turned to face Eddie now, uncertainty masking his features. He opens his mouth to say something else but stops and lets his jaw click shut, shaking his head. 

Eddie leans forward. “What?” 

Richie pales a little bit before he finally continues talking, his eyes roaming over the empty space on Eddie’s left ring finger. It makes Eddie shiver. “If our memory does get wiped again when we leave, there was something I wanted to tell you.” He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.

The hope Eddie feels bubbles up inside of him like sparkly champagne, ready to burst at any moment. He tries to swallow it down.

“Listen, man… I—Jesus Christ.” He pauses and looks up at Eddie finally. “I’ll understand if you never wanna see me again or like talk to me after this, but if I don’t tell you now I know I’ll regret it later and I’m sick of being a fucking coward all of the goddamn time, and—” 

“Richie.”

“Right, sorry. Anyway, um. I’m like, super gay, man. And uh,” Richie pauses, closing his eyes for a moment. Eddie takes the chance to silently scream into the air between them.

“I don’t know, dude. I’ve kind of been in love with you my whole life. Like, I know we forgot about each other but. Even when I didn’t remember who you were, I think you’ve always carried my heart with you, you know? As fucking cheesey as that sounds. I’ve tried being in relationships before but nothing has ever stuck, and now I know it’s because of you. When I walked into the Jade and saw you there I was like...” 

Richie opens his eyes again so he’s looking into Eddie’s, “ _Oh_. _Yeah._ _There you are_. There’s the boy my heart has always belonged to.” 

Eddie can’t help the tremble of his lip, and he feels like such a fucking crybaby tonight but _holy_ _shit_. He lets a laugh bubble out as he wipes at his eyes for a second time. Richie is watching him carefully now, his eyes nervously darting around Eddie’s face, waiting for him to react.

“Jesus, Richie,” Eddie murmurs, moving to stand up. Richie shrinks in on himself, and his features harden, his lips pressing together. 

“Look, I’m sor—” he cuts himself off when Eddie fists his shirt in his hands, pulling Richie up so he’s standing too. Richie is now towering over him, so Eddie presses onto the tips of his toes, his hands planted firmly on Richie’s chest to ground himself. Richie brings his hands up to rest on Eddie’s waist to hold him steady, but there is still hesitation clear in his eyes. Eddie’s voice is a whisper when it comes out.

“Richie, I love you too. I’ve _always_ loved you too. I think you’re the only person I’ve _ever_ really loved.” 

Eddie allows the confession to settle between them before he trails one of the hands from Richie’s chest up to cradle behind his neck. He’s not sure who leans in first after that, but before he knows it their lips are crashing together, the build-up of waiting thirty years for this exact moment popping like a balloon. 

Eddie’s hands are running through Richie’s hair, gripping softly on the curls there and pulling him impossibly closer. His mouth parts slightly and Richie takes the opportunity to bite onto Eddie’s bottom lip, tugging on it gently. Eddie can feel the smirk on Richie’s lips where his own lip is trapped between Richie’s teeth and he feels his knees go weak. 

The love flowing through his veins, sweet and pure like honey, nothing like Sonia or Myra’s venomous poison, makes his skin feel warm, makes him feel _alive_.

“Wanna take this upstairs?” He pants out, standing flat again so Richie has to look down at him. A small smile curls Richie’s lips up at the corners. 

“How presumptuous of you, Eds.” 

Despite his teasing words, Richie is already dragging Eddie up the stairs by his wrist. The sight of Richie’s large hand making his wrist look so small makes him go light-headed and he has to look away before he passes out.

The door to Richie’s room softly closes behind them once they’re inside, and soon Richie is pressing Eddie into the mattress, straddling his thighs. Their already hard and aching cocks grind together through the thin material of their clothes and they both hiss at the contact. 

“Tell me what you want, Eds, I’ll do anything.”

Richie mouths along Eddie’s neck, holding Eddie’s wrists above his head as he grinds down, sucking a hickey into his neck. Eddie can’t help the quiet whimper that escapes him, his own hips digging up to chase the feeling of Richie. He loves how big Richie is, how he makes Eddie feel so small. Not in a bad way, not in the way his mother made him feel small. No, he feels _safe_ under Richie, feels protected. Richie’s lips find his again, their tongues exploring each other's mouths. When Richie licks along Eddie’s bottom lip, Eddie immediately knows what he wants.

“Want your mouth on me, Rich, please,” he sounds desperate even to his own ears, but at this point he doesn’t care. He would do anything for Richie’s mouth on his dick right now, would probably go battle Pennywise again with his own bare hands if it meant he’d get to put Richie’s trashmouth to good use. 

Richie slips down between Eddie’s thighs, tugging on his pants as he goes. There’s a hunger in Richie’s eyes that Eddie has never seen another person have for him before, and it makes him feel like his legs are going to turn into jello. 

“You sure, Eddie baby? Don’t wanna do anything you don’t want me to,” he questions, peppering small kisses into his thighs.

Eddie nods so hard he thinks his brain is going to fly out of his ears. “Never been so sure of anything in my life, Rich.” The double meaning of his words doesn’t fall on deaf ears, and Richie presses one more sweet kiss above the band of Eddie’s underwear before he pulls those down too. 

“God, Eds, you are so beautiful,” Richie whines, spitting into his hand before grabbing Eddie’s cock. The feeling of relief makes Eddie sigh, and he struggles to keep his eyes open as he watches Richie’s hand work over him a few times. Then, Richie’s tongue darts out to lick around the head of Eddie’s cock and Eddie feels his toes curl.

“Oh fuck, Richie, _fuck_ , feels so good.” His hand finds its way to Richie’s head, his fingers tangling in his curls again. Richie slips the head into his mouth and sucks, tongue still lapping at the precum, moaning when Eddie tugs on his hair too hard on accident.

“You like that, baby? Like when I pull on your hair?” Eddie feels himself ask, cheeks heating because _what is he saying and where did that come from?_ Richie, however, answers him in a deep moan and any embarrassment Eddie had towards himself flies out the window faster than the speed of light. He’s allowed to enjoy this now. _They_ are allowed to enjoy this.

Richie works more of Eddie’s length into his mouth, cheeks hallowed, head bobbing, and eyes on Eddie’s like he’s a goddamn pornstar. Eddie feels his own roll back into his head after he feels the tip of his cock hit Richie’s throat. Eddie bucks his hips up and Richie’s unpreoccupied hand presses flat against his stomach, holding Eddie down, his own excess spit running down his chin.

The sound of Richie’s mouth working over Eddie’s cock and swallowing him deeper is filling the room, and it’s so filthy and loud it makes a heat pool in Eddie’s stomach.

“Rich, I’m close,” he warns, his hand tightening in Richie’s hair. Richie hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t pull off, only works his head and hand faster, tongue working along the shaft of Eddie’s cock as he swallows around him. 

Eddie comes with a loud moan, eyes squeezed shut as Richie licks and swallows him up, guiding him through his orgasm. Eddie feels like he is _high_. Like he is in another world, the sound drowning out around him as he shakes and focuses on floating back down to earth.

Richie is yanking his own pants off when Eddie finally calms down, taking himself in his hand. Eddie sits up quickly with a rushed, “No, let me!”

When Eddie’s hand wraps around Richie’s cock, they both moan. Richie’s cock is long, and hot, and heavy in his hand and Eddie almost wants to scoff. _Of course_ Richie wasn’t lying. Of course his dick is _actually_ that big. Eddie almost wants to scream at the discovery.

“Oh _Eds_ , just like that,” Richie’s voice snaps him back to reality. He works his hand up and down quickly, twisting his wrist the way he knows _he_ likes it, and can only assume it feels good for Richie too, his thumb spreading around the precum leaking from the head. 

Richie is panting above him and Eddie knows he isn’t gonna last much longer, so he leans up to kiss Richie again. Richie eagerly accepts, and his hands cradle Eddie’s face as their lips hungrily press together, getting sloppier the closer Richie gets. 

“Ah, fuck! Eds, I love you, I love you so much,” falls from his lips as his load spills into Eddie’s hand, Eddie helping him through the orgasm wracking through his body.

When Eddie’s hand pumps the last little bit of come from Richie’s cock, Richie falls onto the bed next to him.

“Dude, no, that’s gross, we need to clean up,” Eddie complains, kissing Richie’s shoulder before he heads into the bathroom.

“Eddie my love, if you think I can move after that you are sorely mistaken,” Richie shouts his reply. Eddie rolls his eyes and wets a washcloth, cleaning himself off before returning and doing the same for Richie. He pauses when he’s done, his ears perking up at the sound of sniffling. 

“Rich?” He hesitates before tossing the washcloth back into the bathroom, telling himself he’ll worry about it later. “Are you crying?” 

“No, shut up, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Richie huffs, his arm covering his eyes. Eddie glares at him.

“Dude.” He peels Richie’s arm from his face and makes him look at him. 

“What, can’t a guy cry after sex in peace, Eduardo?” 

“Don’t fucking call me that, dumbass. Move over.” Eddie climbs into the bed next to Richie and pulls him close, immediately softening. Richie’s back is pressed into his chest so Eddie kisses the back of his neck, nestling his face into the warm skin there. “You sap,” he whispers. 

“Sue me dude, I’ve been waiting for this my whole life and now I’ve finally got it. I’m overwhelmed,” Richie responds, his own hands encompassing Eddie’s where it lays on Richie’s stomach. His thumb runs across Eddie’s knuckles.

“I know, I’m just teasing you.” Eddie murmurs, his eyes closing. “It makes me sad it took this long, but. I’m glad we’re here now.”

“Oh c’mon Eds, don’t make me cry again,” Richie sniffles. “I’m glad we’re here too, though. Waiting forty years wasn’t the best, but, you know, I’d spend my whole life waiting for you. If that’s what it took.” His voice is getting quieter with sleep and Eddie feels himself smile.

“Well, lucky for you then, you don’t have to wait any longer. You already have me. You’ve always had me.” 

The nightmare from before completely erases from his mind, the snaking vines of his mother’s words releasing their grip from around his throat, falling away from him completely. This time, he dreams about the good kind of love. The kind of love that is so warm it would make the sun jealous, that lights you up inside and makes you shine with it. The kind of love he’s deserved this whole time and finally, _finally_ , gets to embrace with open arms. 

The kind of love that Richie makes him feel full of. 

Eddie falls asleep with a smile on his face. 


End file.
